The Game Page #2

NICHOLAS:

No.

NICHOLAS:

The Hinchberger wedding.

NICHOLAS:

Let me think...

(sits back, eyes closed)

Hordes of men in tuxedos. Everyone's

droning. Ludwell's trying to break

the ice by reciting an off-color

limerick...

MARIA:

(impatient)

I'll send your regrets. Honestly,

why must I even bother?

NICHOLAS:

Because, if you don't know about

society, you don't have the

satisfaction of avoiding it.

A KNOCK and a female ASSISTANT enters. There's a lot more

NOISE and ACTIVITY behind her.

ASSISTANT:

Elizabeth on line three.

Nicholas taps his fingers on his lips, considering.

MARIA:

Your ex-wife.

NICHOLAS:

I know who she is.

(to assistant)

Take a message.

ASSISTANT:

Um... Happy Birthday, sir.

Nicholas squints.

MARIA:

(icily)

Thank you, Maggie.

The assistant backs out. Nicholas returns to his computer.

NICHOLAS:

I don't like her.

MARIA:

I wouldn't mention the following,

except he was very insistent. It's

obviously some sort of prank...

NICHOLAS:

What?

MARIA:

A gentleman left a message requesting

a lunch, but I assured him...

NICHOLAS:

What gentleman, Maria?

MARIA:

A Mister... Seymour Butts.

Nicholas looks up. He sits back, lost in thought.

NICHOLAS:

(to himself)

"Under the Bleachers"... by Seymour

Butts.

MARIA:

Pardon me? I'm afraid I don't...

NICHOLAS:

Cancel lunch. Make reservations at

Campton Place for me and Mr. Butts.

Maria nods, heading out, high heels clicking as she crosses.

NICHOLAS:

And, put the reservation in my name.

CUT TO:

INT. CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- DAY

Upscale. Quiet. Nicholas is in a booth facing the rear,

studying a thick FINANCIAL STATEMENT, making tiny notations.

A WAITRESS arrives.

WAITRESS:

Ready to order, sir?

NICHOLAS:

I'm still waiting...

Nicholas points out the other plate. The waitress leaves.

NICHOLAS:

Excuse me...

She returns. He slides his empty glass toward her.

NICHOLAS:

This was iced tea.

He's returned to his report. The waitress takes the glass

and leaves, irritated. Nicholas checks his watch. An

EXAGGERATED SNEEZE is HEARD and liquid hits the back of his

neck -- AH-CHOO!...

Nicholas jumps, sickened, turning to face CONRAD, who holds

a spray bottle and smiles.

CONRAD:

Hey there, Nickie.

NICHOLAS:

(repulsed)

Conrad, what a surprise. Gesundheit.

CONRAD:

Happy Birthday, man.

NICHOLAS:

(nods)

"Seymour Butts." I never get tired

of that one.

CONRAD:

That's why it's a classic. Come on,

man... how 'bout a hug... ?

Nicholas is wiping his neck with a napkin as Conrad forces a

hug on him. Conrad takes a seat, good-lookingm unkempt,

tan, wearing a too-big suit jacket.

CONRAD:

They gave me a free jacket at the

door.

NICHOLAS:

They'll be wanting it back.

CONRAD:

Not after I'm done with it.

(laughs)

Actually, I've been here. In

grad-school I bought crystal-meth

from the maitre d'.

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